The Year of the Apple
by Terond76
Summary: AU. Relationship changed. (You will understand if you beat BioShock Infinite) Booker Dewitt, heretic and convict, is given a chance to redeem himself by a pair of convincing 'twins' to kill a beloved figure-Comstock. As his adventure hits a rough patch is introduced to the Lamb. A beautiful woman, who can maybe just reintroduce him into romance and help. Rating will change to M.
1. Prologue

_**Author's Note:**_

**Reader-stop!**

**If you have not beaten the game-**

**Stop!**

**Spoilers are in this story.**

**Whatever you do, do not continue with this story.**

**You have been warned.**

**~T**

* * *

_**The Year of the Apple**_

_Prologue_

Time rots everything. Even hope.

Hope is what keeps us strong, but time wears us down.

But I've learned that time can make things better. Bring light to certain things that never existed.

Existence . . . I've never really thought of the human race lately—only the apple of my eye.

The apple is still ripe as ever and just a doting.

But soon the apple will darken, and so will I.

* * *

**Author's Note : **_So this is a Bioshock Infinite story. The rules have been bent to go with this ship. I know a lot of people are freaked out by it, but hey it's my ship and I will do what I want. And do not tell me you never shipped them until the end because EVERYONE did. But Ken Levine had to go and ruin it with an AWESOME ending.  
_


	2. The Fruit of Temptation

_**Author's Note:**_

**Reader-stop!**

**If you have not beaten the game-**

**Stop!**

**Spoilers are in this story.**

**Whatever you do, do not continue with this story.**

**You have been warned.**

**~T**

* * *

_**The Year of the Apple**_

_Chapter 1 – The Fruit of Temptation_

Utopias are created by excellent minds. Excellent minds with great tools. The floating city flourished above the Sodom below as many called it. Columbia with it's great wings and ever glowing beauty still flies in 1912. The year the Titanic sunk, the first woman pilot flies across the English Channel, and alien cherry blossoms are planted in Washington D.C.'s ground.

Columbia still stood strong. The men guarding this New Eden were just as burly. Wisps of dark hair and clean white skin marched the sidewalks of Columbia. They struck no fear into any civilians eyes, but they did many things behind closed doors. Things people _would _fear.

Jail cells were hidden below the holy church and in the dark and dank sewer system of Columbia. All the waste had to go somewhere, and it ended up here in the barracks. The cries of forgotten sinners and traitors echoed off the cobble stone walls. Their nails and spirits broken from failed escapes. The worst cells housed the most demonic criminals-rapists, traitors, murders or heretics. They all gathered here in one place. Rats scurried past their feet and they ate anything they could get—some say they would even eat their own shit if they had to.

Cell block sixty-six was the last one of the left, and had been occupied for only a few days. A dark haired man with vibrant eyes sat in the corner scratching his right hand. The charred skin of his new brand ached and begged to be irritated by the man's nails. He groaned as he shifted his weight, and searched for his pack of cigarettes.

He spotted them by the front of the cell by his untouched bread. He was given a loaf a few days ago, but it tasted of saw dust. The man across from him had offered his fresher bread in exchange for a cigarette, but the convict would rather die happy filled with nicotine then filled to the brim with bread.

He crawled on his hands and knees, which creaked with every step. His hands left bloody trail marks as he slid them against the stone. He hissed with pain as his open wounds met the cold floor. Soon he made it to the wrought iron bars before he could set his hands on the cigarettes another hand plucked them out of the way. The convict growled with irritation as he sprung up, and grasped the bars in his calloused hands. The bars didn't shake as his hands pounded against the good iron. He spotted in front of him two people.

A man and a woman.

The woman had her arms behind her back, and cocked her head with curious look as the man crushed the cigarettes in his hand.

"Hey!" The convict roared.

"Hello to you as well."

"It wasn't a greeting, brother."

"I like to think it is."

"Was."

"Hmm, so stuck in the past are we?" The man retorted with sass.

"Hey, pal, why don't you go grab me another pack?"

"I think I have more important matters at hand than your disgusting habit."

"What do you want?" The convict sighed as he let go of the bars and let himself relax.

"It is not what he wants."

"But what you want." The man finished the woman's sentence.

"I want my smokes!"

"Wouldn't you rather be out of this awful prison?"

"Yes, ma'am I would, but I got a death sentence, you see?" The convict seethed. "That's why I'm in sixty-six."

"Why relate something so horrendous to such a innocent number?" The man snickered.

"Innocent? How can numbers be innocent?"

"They haven't done nothing to anybody, sister."

"How can anybody do nothing? It's quite impossible."

"You know what I meant."

"Now did I? Or are you just assum-"

"Well you two stop bickering! What do you—well I need?"

"You need to get out before you are hung by the neck and we need your services." The man explained.

"I was a mercenary."

"Are." The woman said.

"You are a mercenary." The man continued.

"And we need you."

"We can wipe away your debt." The woman smiled as she raised a hand. That hand held a key, and the convict immediately rushed back to the bars.

"Give it to me."

"We need to know you won't be weaseling out of the deal." The man said seriously.

"I won't—I promise!"

"A convict's promise, how honorary."

"What do you want me to do so I get what I want?" The convict asked even though it sounded very confusing.

"Kill this man and you will be set free." The man stated as he slipped an envelope through the bars and into the convict's shirt pocket. The two back away as the lights above flickered.

"You'll be needing this, Booker." The woman said as she tossed the key effortlessly into the cell. Booker snatched it out of the air, and held the tiny key in his mitts.

"Wait—how can I contact you?"

"It is not you who will be contacting us." The man chided.

"But us who will be contacting you." The woman finished before the lights totally blacked out, and then he was alone.

"What the—" Booker said before looking down at the key. It was obviously a skeleton key. It could be used on anything . . . it will probably come in handy more often than once. Booker immediately remembered the note in his pocket. He quickly undid the red seal on the letter, and opened it.

A picture of a man everyone knew was inside. The Prophet. Zachary Hale Comstock was seen as untouchable. He was everyone's God here, but not to Booker Dewitt. He was not a God fearing man, and he was branded a heretic. He glanced down at the brand on his hand of a scroll, key, and sword. He shook his hand ridding his mind of the pain he endured.

He checked inside the rest of the envelope, and saw two letters. Once was addressed to him.

_Booker,_

_ I was told once that writing to your significant other secretly was a good way to vent. However there is nothing to vent about. You are in every way everything I could have asked for. You are my anchor and, I, your sturdy rope. We support each other thick and thin as it has always been._

_ Your apple, _

_ E_

"What the hell?" Booker murmured as he tucked the note away into his jeans, and then opened the other one. This one had just a fancy writing on the outside addressed to him. It was also sealed with a brand. The letter L stood out prominently, and was colored orange. He never seen orange wax before.

_Mr. Dewitt,_

_ Dewitt—STOP_

_ When the apple is ripe—it will fall. _

_ -Lutece_

He was very confused with this whole apple business. He didn't even like apples! Too expensive and not a taste he desired. He pocketed the next note, and then looked down at his key. He tested the weight in his hand before eyeing the lock.

"Well I got myself a Prophet to kill."

* * *

_Author's Note: Alright I want **2 reviews **before I continue to the next chapter. I hope you are all enjoying, and I do not own anything BioShock related!_


	3. Rain of Sorrow

_**Author's Note:**_

**Reader-stop!**

**If you have not beaten the game-**

**Stop!**

**Spoilers are in this story.**

**Whatever you do, do not continue with this story.**

**You have been warned.**

**~T**

* * *

_**The Year of the Apple**_

Chapter 2 – Rain of Sorrow

Escaping wasn't the hard part—it was finding his weapons. He crept around the underground (if you could call something that's in the sky underground) facility and finally found the holding room after a good hour. He stuck the wondrous key into the lock, and it immediately opened. The room suddenly let out an awful smell. Booker covered his nose with his forearm as he entered the room. He held back a gag as he took in the sight.

About four bodies were laid out in the room, and had apparently been there for more than twenty-four hours. The blood was well seeped into the floor, and made the room smell of copper. He grabbed his handkerchief from his back pocket, and tied it over his face as he made his way. He made sure to check his surroundings to make sure this wasn't the doing of traps. It all seemed that all the men were hit point blank by a powerful weapon in the back of the head.

He found his hand cannon off in the distance inside an open locker. He quickly slipped the gun slinger on, and put his weapon in the holder. He continued sifting through the locker and found a small bag. Inside were many things.

A ring for instance—a normal gold wedding bang which hung on a necklace. He held it curiously in his hand before slipping it over his head, it may come in handy when he needed money. The ring landed on his collarbone, and it was in-scripted with something. He held it to his face, but he couldn't read it. It was in a different language of some sort. He continued riffling through the bag, and found his boots, ascot, and vest. He threw those on before tossing the bag back into the locker.

He checked himself out in the dirty mirror in the corner, and he smiled lightly at himself. He definitely needed a shower and shave, but that could wait. He glanced down at the brand on his hand, and untied the handkerchief from his neck slowly. He carefully tied it around his brand, and made sure it was tight as to not fall off. He walked up a flight of steps, and then he was outside. The rough wind hit his skin, and he hissed as the sun burnt his skin. Away from the sunlight for just a week had really done him in. He walked up a few more stairs to look at the city.

Columbia had always been beautiful. He remembered as a child he and his friends would see who could get higher up the statue at Monument Island. This was before it was closed off. That was about ten years ago when he was twenty. He could remember going to the raffle every year, and his father had won the first raffle ever. He begged his father not to hit the poor black man, but his father had a duty to do. He remembered the cheers of the crowd, and his cries as the black man was bludgeoned to death by baseballs. He shook his head as he continued on, and started scaling down the building he was on. Soon his feet landed on the hard stone below him, and he was in the square of Columbia.

The humongous statute of Comstock stood proud, and he laughed at himself. He was the only one who knew of his upcoming death—well besides the curious twins who sent him. He continued on his way making sure no one would spot him. He wasn't very well known around the city since he hid in the dark of it, but still one person could ruin everything.

He could hear the pleasant sound of music as he turned the corner heading towards the freight yard. He glanced over to where the music was coming from. A woman singing as a teenager played guitar was surrounded by children was what he saw. All the kids smiled up at her as she sang. Her raven hair was tied back, and her blue eyes looked up and stared into his own. She smiled a bit as she continued singing.

"_But now the rains weep o'er his hall, with no one there to hear_." She sang loud enough for him to hear. It was a very old song he remember as a kid.

_But now the rains weep o'er his hall, and not a soul to hear. _He finished in his head as he walked away, and made a sharp turn to the left. He had to make it Emporia—that's where the bastard would be.

However he heard a voice. A very loud one. He paid no mind to it until a the woman came running up to him. She was holding something as she approached him.

"Mr. Dewitt?"

Booker growled as he grabbed her elbow, and forced her closer to him. "How do you know my name?"

"I have a telegram for you, Mister." She whispered as she held it out to him.

"A woman delivering telegrams?"

"Are you doubting women?"

"I'm doubting your credibility. Who gave this to you?" He asked as he flipped it over, and read it quickly.

_The apple has fallen. _

_-Lutece_

"A man. He didn't say who he was."

"Did he talk in riddles?" Booker joked.

"Actually yes! So you are Mr. Dewitt, I am Elizabeth Comstock."

Booker looked up from the telegram in surprise. This was the daughter of Comstock . . . this was the Lamb.

"What is such a respectable lady like you doing out here?"

"Father says this is petty work, but I enjoy it. The city needs to know they are cared for even the Irish and Blacks. He says they are awful people, but why do they have such big hearts if they are 'bad'?" She rambled with a blush to her face. "Sorry, Mr. Dewitt I shouldn't bother you. You probably have somewhere to be."

"Not at all, Ms. Comstock. Please call me Booker."

"Only if you call me Elizabeth." She giggled with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Suddenly sirens wailed loudly, which led to everyone covering their ears. Elizabeth growled as she led Booker away from the sirens and into a green house. It wasn't locked so they easily got in. The cries were softer, but soon a booming voice sounded on the PA system.

"_Citizens of Columbia, this is a code red. I urge everyone to go to their homes and stay there until further notice. A heretic is on the loose and will be captured. I want to ensure your safety_." The loud man stopped talking, and a prerecorded voice sounded.

_"Brought to you by The Prophet_."

"I need to get home." Elizabeth said suddenly.

"You can't go out there." Booker told her.

"I can handle my own against a heretic." She laughed as she slipped up her skirt flashing her ankles. He was too busy staring at her pale flesh to notice her flick the knife out of its holster. He shook his head as he took, and tested it's sharpness. He handed it back to her with a gentle pass off.

"You might need it."

"Why?" She chuckled.

"Because I'm the one they are looking for." Booker sighed as he untied the handkerchief around his hand, and flashed his brand. Elizabeth had her knife against his throat before he could say a word.

"You bastard!"

"Hey! I'm not going to do anything!"

"How do I know that? You are a traitor!"

"Oh so I'm the bad guy now!" He seethed.

"Yes, you are a heretic! You're the one that killed him!"

"I killed him for everyone's sake!"

"He was my friend, Mr. Dewitt!" Elizabeth cried out.

"A giant mechanical bird as your friend? You are fucked up."

Elizabeth's hands shook as she held the knife to the older man's throat. "Why?"

"Because he killed many people."

"_Who _did he kill Mr. Dewitt? What made you tear that bird to pieces?"

"He killed my daughter."

* * *

_Author's Note: I'll try to update once a day depending on how I am feeling. The song used was Rains of Castamere from the popular Game of Thrones series. I just liked those last lyrics. It is also very folky and I wanted that to be one of the songs I mentioned. I hope you are all enjoying, and I do not own anything BioShock related!_


	4. Sky's the Limit

_**Author's Note:**_

**Reader-stop!**

**If you have not beaten the game-**

**Stop!**

**Spoilers are in this story.**

**Whatever you do, do not continue with this story.**

**You have been warned.**

**~T**

* * *

_**The Year of the Apple**_

Chapter 3 – Sky's the Limit

Songbird,

Songbird see him fly, drop the children from the sky,

When the young ones misbehave, escorts children to their grave.

Never back-talk, never lie, or he'll drop you from the sky!

_Anna Dewitt along with many other children enjoyed singing the song while skipping on the cobblestones in Columbia's square. It was just after dark, and it was just Anna alone—waiting for her father to retrieve her after a long day's work._

_Anna continued singing the song while skipping effortlessly. A girl of six had nothing better to do with her day, but play. However she heard the clicking of leather shoes on the pavement. She assumed it was her father, but she soon saw it was not her father. It was a red haired man with a lovely tan suit. She smiled up at him as he stopped in front of him._

_"Are you enjoying your skipping?"_

_"Of course, sir! It is quite fun. Would you like to join?"_

_"I do not believe in skipping."_

_"How can one believe in skipping?" She asked as she continued back and forth along the chalk lined path._

_"Very clever," The man commented as he stepped closer. "Would you like to see something you couldn't believe?" _

_"I am waiting for my father, sir. He'd be cross with me if I left." _

_"You are quite the smart young girl. Who taught you such words?"_

_"My father. He's a stone mason, but he loves books. I do too."_

_"You can read?"_

_"Why yes!"_

_"Well then read this." He said as he held out a note, and she snatched it from his grasp immediately. She read it a couple times before saying it out loud._

_"Don't look behind you." She stated before carefully tilting her head to look behind her, and then she screamed. _

Booker remembered hearing that scream from blocks away. He ran as fast as he could, but only found her crumple body that impacted harshly after a horrible fall. The authorities claimed she had been climbing, and fell to her death. He knew it was the legend the children spoke of, but no one believed him.

"I knew it was that feathered piece of shit, a young boy told me that story. Said he saw the red haired man and everything that transpired. The boy is now twelve and lives in the asylum speaking about birds that attack him all the time." Booker explained. Elizabeth had long forgotten her knife, and they both sat at on the ground. The flowers around her smelled beautiful and had blossomed well. She stood up simply, and picked a white rose.

"Where is she buried?"

"Memorial Gardens in Emporia. I have to go to Emporia."

"Why?"

"Unpaid debts."

Elizabeth looked around as she twirled the flower in her hand nervously. "I can take you there. I can get access anywhere. You can pretend to be my guard." Elizabeth devised this careful plan.

"I don't want you to get mixed up in this. It's between me and the bird."

"The bird is dead, Booker. I saw his mangled pieces—your bomb completely destroyed him."

Booker didn't want to tell her his true intentions. Father Comstock was what he was after . . . he couldn't bring her to the death of her father. "I can't expose you to this."

"What do you plan on doing?" She questioned.

"I want to tear it all down. I want everything to burn."

Elizabeth stood there with her rose, and she slowly placed it in his pocket. "Can I watch the world burn too?"

"What of your Father?"

"He—he is not what is once was. Sinister and uncaring. He was awful to my mother. I tend to the petty to spite him. He is a horrible man behind closed doors and I learned the truth when I turned eighteen."

"Lady Comstock?"

"I knew her until I was about five, but then she was killed by Daisy Fitzroy. I then moved to Monument Island-away from everything."

"Where is Daisy Fitzroy?"

"She was killed two days ago by Mr. Fink. She held him captive, and he got the drop on her. Do they give you no news of the world inside those cells?" She chuckled.

"I suppose not." He had knew Daisy Fitzroy. She had helped him conjure up the idea for the bomb down in Shantytown. She supplied him the wears if he would take the bird down. A beautiful woman with a good cause now lied dead somewhere in a ditch. It seemed such a shame to Booker.

"What's wrong, Mr. Dewitt?" Elizabeth asked.

"Nothing, just thinking about Daisy."

"You knew her?"

"Yeah, you could say that." He said as he stood, and offered his arm to Elizabeth. "Now, Ms. Comstock are you ready to head home?"

"Of course, Mr.—"

"Call me Jack Ryan. Can't let the people know my real name." He laughed as he led her out of the green house.

The sirens had stopped and a few people remained on the streets. Mostly men who were armed and women rushing home to their husbands. Booker and Elizabeth made their way to Monument Island's skyline. She gestured to a soldier who had a weapon his left hand. She walked over to the man, and tapped his shoulder.

"Ah! Ms. Elizabeth. Are you ready to head home?" The man asked.

"Actually I need a zeppelin to head towards my father's house."

"You aren't going home?" The man asked as he pointed at Monument Island. Booker thought on how the building closed years ago . . . She must had been moved there as a child.

"I need to pay a visit to Emporia. I'm visiting my mother."

"At a time like this with a heretic on the loose?"

"Trust me, I'll be fine." She smiled as she looked at Booker. He gave a small wave to the man who nodded his head.

"I'll send a troop with you."

"No need. Mr. Ryan is very capable of taking care of everything." Elizabeth pushed. The man sighed, and pressed the button on the intercom system next to him.

"Bring me a zeppelin for Ms. Elizabeth. She needs to head for Emporia."

Not long after the man called for the zeppelin a roar sounded, and Booker could see the white balloon heading their way. Elizabeth smiled as she stood next to her guard.

"Are you afraid of heights, Mr. Ryan?"

"Not at all." He grinned.

* * *

_Author's Note: Now I am addicted to my own story! The song used was the Songbird nursery rhyme song by the kids in the first mission who are skipping. I hope you are all enjoying, and I do not own anything BioShock related!_


	5. The Sodom Below

_**Author's Note:**_

**Reader-stop!**

**If you have not beaten the game-**

**Stop!**

**Spoilers are in this story.**

**Whatever you do, do not continue with this story.**

**You have been warned.**

**~T**

* * *

_**The Year of the Apple**_

Chapter 4 – The Sodom Below

The ride to Emporia was uneventful. Elizabeth had the controls over the zeppelin and Booker was amazed that she could control. He stood next to her and looked out at the horizon. It was turning orange as the sun went down. It was a rare sight they were seeing. It would be another fifteen minutes before they reached the dock at Emporia. Booker stepped away from the girl as she watched the coordinates.

"How long have you lived in Columbia?" Elizabeth asked without even lifting her head.

"Since the city first took flight in 1900. I was around seventeen at the time. I used to climb Monument Island when it was on ground. However most people feared it when we took flight. We fired on the Boxer's and really fucked up so we ascended from the Sodom below as our beloved Prophet calls it."

Elizabeth nodded as she understood. "I was locked up in that place when I was five. I remember feeling the rumbling as we took off. It was July 6th."

"You were just a teenager then."

"Just like you, Booker."

"I was almost a man. I could have voted against the succession. I didn't I was out getting drunk and doing stupid shit. I was a very hateful kid. I hated my father for his unholy acts and I hated my sister for leaving us. She lives _below. _She didn't come back in time before we ascended." Booker explained.

"Tortured souls we both are, how original." Elizabeth laughed as she glanced back at the purple sky. "Were you married?"

"No," Booker immediately answered.

"Then how did you have a kid?"

"Sex doesn't always have to happen in wedlock." He stated as he grabbed a pack of cigarettes off the control station. He fired one up as he continued. "We met when I was doing work in Finkton. I was a stone mason. I was about twenty. It was a one night stand, and then nine months later a frail woman came to me with a child. Said her daughter died in childbirth, and I deserved this monstrosity.

"I named her Anna, and raised her. She didn't look anything like me, but I couldn't take a child to an orphanage. She would end up dead or starving in Shantytown. She was white so at least I wouldn't be shunned horribly.

"But when I lost her . . . it felt like my heart was missing. It still is missing. If I had only—"

"There was nothing you could do, Booker." Elizabeth said.

"Why are you so friendly to this horrible convict?" Booker laughed at himself as he sucked in smoke, and blew it out of his nose angrily.

"I—I—" She started, but then sighed. "It's hard to explain."

"What do you mean?"

"I have a gift."

"A birthday gift?"

"No, I have an ability. It's hard to explain . . . I'll just have to show you." She said before stepping over to Booker. She took his smoking hand, and placed it in front of her. She stepped back a few paces, and then swung her arms in a quick motion. Suddenly his hand tingled, and he closed his eyes as a bright light exploded inside of the zeppelin.

When he opened his eyes a cigarette was no longer in his hand, but an apple was. It was grey and was distorted. He clearly felt the weight of apple in his hand, and he could smell it.

"What? What is this?"

"It's a tear."

"What's a tear, Elizabeth?"

"It's like a doorway. I open them all the time when I'm bored, and usually they are boring. But sometimes I can create magnificent things. I've seen so many worlds, Booker. I've seen automobiles that run on gas! I've seen color movies and have seen these machines that can look up any information in the world. It's infinite realities I suppose."

"That means infinite possibilities . . ." Booker said as he twirled the apple in his hand. He suddenly grasped the apple tighter, and then threw it at the wall. It shatter into a bunch of pieces and Elizabeth jumped at the sound of the noise.

"It was a real apple."

"I'm not lying, Booker."

"Then what does this have to do with me?"

"I've seen you before. About two years from now. You are down below, and you were cradling a baby. It was a random tear I opened this morning after seeing a picture of you on the news about your upcoming death. I had to stop your death. I can't let an innocent child die for the sins of her parents."

"Then why did my daughter die? Why?"

"Booker I've seen-"

"Did you send the twins?"

"What? What twins?"

"Are we interrupting?" Two voices sounded at the same time. Booker gasped as the dynamic duo appeared before them with crossed arms and prissy grins.

"What are you two doing here?"

"Booker, who are they?"

"Robert, I fear that our man isn't listening to our telegrams."

"Wait, that was you? What with the apples? I am sick of these goddamn apples."

"Everything has a meaning, Mr. Dewitt and meaning is everything." 'Robert' said.

"What the hell are you two talking about?" Elizabeth asked.

"You of all people should know. You have the power to alter time and space, and look ahead."

"It's wishful fulfillment."

"Exactly."

"I want some damn answers, now!" Booker growled as he drew his weapon, and pointed it at them.

"Why would you point a deathly weapon at the people who freed you?"

"Because you are irritating me."

"Like the union workers did." Robert spoke up.

"Nice one, brother." The woman chuckled.

Booker angrily tightened his finger on the trigger as he let out two shots. Suddenly the zeppelin took a sky dive. The roar of the fall was booming, and Booker couldn't believe out of everything he hit the damn ceiling. Elizabeth screamed as she projected into the air, and Booker held fast onto the counter.

"Elizabeth! Take my hand!" Booker hollered as he held out his large hand. Elizabeth drifted slowly towards him, and latched on. Booker pulled her into his embrace, and made sure they were holding on tight.

Soon the balloon reached something, and bobbed. Booker could feel coldness on his feet, and when he looked down he saw water. He had a sudden panic-if he was afraid of something it was water.

"Elizabeth! Move!" He cried as he yanked her up, and towards the wooden door in the back. It was locked shut, and their only way out. Booker frantically scanned around before noticing his hand cannon on the ground to the left. He snatched it from the ground, and shot off two rounds into the lock. The door came free along with a crashing wave of water. The hole he had created with his first bullet was so large they could both fit through it. But they were in water, and they both didn't know how to swim. How could one learn when in the sky?

Once again he and Elizabeth were looking for anything that floats. The door that was barely hanging off it's hinges was staying afloat, and Booker got an idea. He immediately slapped his hands on the wood, and pulled so hard that the whole wall broke. He stuck the door under his arm, and pulled the shock stricken Elizabeth behind him.

"Elizabeth! Can you hear me?" He screamed. She only nodded as she stared at the open water.

"Get on this door! I will push you out and meet you!"

"No—no!" She yelped out.

"Just go!" He ordered as he set her on the floating door, and pushed her out of the sinking zeppelin. Just after she got out the zeppelin collapsed, and Booker cried out when a wooden beam came straight down on his back. As the zeppelin sunk he could hear the mocking voices of the twins.

_You missed . . . _

* * *

_Author's Note: Sorry, kids for the cliff hanger. (: I hope you are all enjoying, and I do not own anything BioShock related!_


	6. No Debts to be Paid

_**Author's Note:**_

**Reader-stop!**

**If you have not beaten the game-**

**Stop!**

**Spoilers are in this story.**

**Whatever you do, do not continue with this story.**

**You have been warned.**

**~T**

* * *

_**The Year of the Apple**_

_Chapter 5 – No Debts to be Paid_

Elizabeth looked out at the open water with fear in her eyes. The zeppelin was going down and she couldn't see Booker yet. The door floated at an angle, and it was hard to stay on it. She wind was harsh against her open back, and she could feel the water stinging her open wounds. The zeppelin soon was completely under water, and she feared for the worst.

She thought it was just something in her eye, but she began to cry. She had failed in her task. That poor baby would never grow up with a father at her side, and she helped him fail in his quest for revenge. She let her hand go up, and wipe away the salty tears flowing from her eyes. She suddenly felt a pair of hands on her legs, and heard the inhaling of a man. She glanced down to see sopping wet dark hair as Booker shook it from his vibrant green eyes. He looked up at her, and smiled with little breath.

"It takes a lot more to kill me then some water." He commented with a sly smirk.

Elizabeth cried out in joy as she threw her arms around him. However this caused the door to tip, and throw her into him. He groaned as she fell into the water, clutching to him. She kissed his cheek a few times before letting go, and going back to the door. Both planted their hands on one side as a wave tumbled over them.

"What are we going to do?" Elizabeth asked with worry in her strained voice.

"Well, there's the north star." Booker pointed out. With all the chaos she failed to notice that it was now night time. The stars shined brightly over them as she kicked her feet in the abyss below her. "If we head west we're bound to hit land at some point. We can't be too far from land."

"But that means we have to swim. Do you know how to swim?"

Booker sighed as he tried keeping afloat. "Not really. If we hold onto this door, and kick we can make it to shore."

Elizabeth nodded with confidence as she started kicking, and Booker following suit.

They both never realized how tiring swimming was. Soon they could see lights, and it had been over an hour. Booker pulled the door onto shore as Elizabeth crawled after him. Her dress weighed her down tremendously. She plopped herself on the ground, and groaned heavily. Booker shook himself to rid the awful dampness. Soon he was dry enough to move about.

"Booker, mind helping me with this?" She asked as she pointed to her dress. She couldn't walk with this thing on. She would just have to go without the dress and wear her corset and stockings. Booker nodded as he shifted towards her and undid the laces in the back. He let his hands rest on her shoulders as she heaved loudly.

"Don't get this much exercise at home?" Booker joked as he rubbed her shoulders. Elizabeth moaned at the feeling, and turned her head to the side so she could see him.

"Not often enough. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Booker said as he rested his hands on her upper arms now. "I'll be fine. We'll have to find a hotel for the night."

"We have no money." Elizabeth pointed out as Booker helped her to stand.

"I can find us a way."

"Do you even know where we are?" She questioned. Booker smiled as he turned her around, and pointed up at the twinkling lights. "The Eiffel Tower!"

"Don't know how we landed exactly in the river, but we're lucky."

"I've always wanted to go to Paris!" Elizabeth exclaimed as she twirled around on the sand. Booker watched on as she admired the Eiffel tower. He had never seen her so happy as she was right now. Well, he hadn't known her long, but she must really like this place. He had never been to Paris, and was happy to be in such a populated city. Normal people was a good thing.

"I've never been to Paris, but I'm sure we can find a way to get money."

"How so?"

"I have ways." He smiled as he hooked his arm in hers and began strolling.

* * *

Booker felt bad for bringing her to a place like this. He gave a homeless man his genuine leather coat to get a tip where this underground bar would be. Smoke wafted in the place, and he could barely make out Elizabeth's face. She trailed behind him clutching his shirt so she wouldn't get lost. He could feel her shaking grip, and he chuckled at the scared little Lamb.

"I'm just going to get enough to get us a hotel."

"We have no money in the first place."

"I can do something about that." Booker chided as he sat down at a table full of burly men. They all looked at him as they counted their cash. Booker smiled as he placed his gun on the table. The men all placed their hands on their hips holding their holsters.

"You got a problem, buddy?" One man said. He had a very thick French accent, and his beard was unruly and tangled.

"Oh, no. I'm just here to make a few bets and win some cash."

"I'd rather have your pretty girl all to myself." Another man laughed. He was pudgy, and Elizabeth made a face at him as he winked at her. Booker pointed the gun directly to the man's temple, and leaned in close.

"You touch her, you die." Booker seethed with venom dripping from his voice.

Elizabeth was astounded by his protective side. She had felt like he didn't like her, but apparently he was willing to keep her safe from scoundrels.

"Hey, take it easy, old sport. I was just playing."

"Yeah, well I need some cash—quick."

"Got enough to play?" The dealer asked.

"No, but I got this." Booker said as he placed the Sky Hook on the table. The dealer picked it up, and slapped it on his arm. He laughed as it spun sinisterly. Obviously it was pure steel and a rare commodity. The dealer nodded as he stuck it under the table.

"You get 100."

"I want 200."

"150."

"175." Booker said firmly. The dealer eyed him suspiciously, and then tossed him 150 in chips.

"Now we play." Booker said to the other men.

Elizabeth was dumbfounded by this game. She had never been in a bar before let alone see men play poker. Booker had an stone face as he kept placing his chips in the growing pile. Soon everyone was all in, and Booker simply sat back, at ease.

"Okay, gun slinger, what do you got?" The dealer asked. Booker looked around at his playmates, and then placed his hand on the table.

"Four of a kind." The dealer announced. All the other men groaned, and threw their cards on the table angrily.

"Lucky bastard." The pervert growled as Booker collected his chips. Elizabeth ran over to him, and side hugged him as he placed them all in a bag.

"This should tie us over for a few weeks." Booker grinned as he patted the small woman's head.

"My hero." Elizabeth joked as she kissed him on the cheek.

All together he earned three thousand dollars which he made Elizabeth stuff in her bodice. He was more likely to get pick pocketed than her. After making their way out of the stuffy bar they searched around for a decent hotel. Elizabeth along the way gawked at the huge buildings and greeted everyone on the street. She had never met more friendly people in her life. Everyone seemed so content here rather than stuffy and close minded in Columbia.

Booker found a hotel that clearly had a view of the Eiffel Tower, and he made sure they got a good room. The room cost thirty for the night. After much bargaining the owner handed him the key. However the room only had one bed much to his dismay. As they climbed the stairs Booker looked back with hair covering his eyes.

"I'll take the floor. You can have the bed." Booker mentioned.

"No, sir! You have done enough for me. You can have the bed."

"You're the lady."

"You're the gentleman." She retorted.

Booker glared at her as he stuck the key in the door, and opened it. The room was more than they thought it would be. It was plastered white, and had a large king bed in the middle. It also had two bed side tables with beautifully crafted lambs. Elizabeth noticed they were hand painted, and had many images of the Eiffel Tower on them. It was something you'd see in an advertisement catalog. Booker immediately toed off his shoes, and then plopped on the bed with a sigh. Soon Elizabeth followed him, and fell down right next to him. Booker looked over at her as she stared up at the ceiling. Elizabeth turned towards him with her head in hand, and using her elbow to prop herself up.

"Are we sinners now?"

"What?"

"Since we are in the Sodom," Elizabeth clarified. "Are we sinners?"

"Far from it." Booker laughed as he sat up. "So who gets the bed?"

"Why do we have to fight about it? It's a king bed. It can fit two."

"I don't think that is apporiate." Booker said.

"I think we've crossed the line between what's appropriate and what's not." Elizabeth laughed. Booker simply just shook his head, and stood. He disposed of his shirt and ascot, and curled into the right side of the bed. Elizabeth watched him as he tugged the sheets with one hand to straighten them out. He rolled over onto his back with his hands behind his head.

Elizabeth stared at his upper body, and tried to remember her anatomical books. She couldn't remember seeing a chest as well defined as his. The contors of his pectorals were definite, and his chest puffed out extremely with every breath he took.

"You're going to be uncomfortable." Booker acknowledged as she looked down at her corset. Booker chuckled as she went to lie down. "Use my shirt."

"What?"

"Put my shirt on." Booker said. "It's dry by now and far more comfortable than _that_."

Elizabeth glanced down again before standing, and grabbing his discarded shirt on the ground. She looked it over, and saw it was very dirty. However it smelled like him, and made her feel . . . secure.

"Turn around." She mumbled as she undid the ties on her corset. Booker playfully covered his eyes as Elizabeth went to work. After removing most of her clothing, and setting it on the heater she slipped his shirt over her head. The cotton felt nice on her skin, and she could feel the summer's breeze on her back. The shirt reached to just below her knees and covered her modesty.

Booker glanced out of the corner of his eye to see her donned in his shirt. His breath caught in his throat for a second as he admired her. He had never seen someone with such confidence. He was surprised she even trusted him. He was a heretic, thug, and thief after all.

She inched her way into the bed, and turned off her lamp. Booker wished her a goodnight as he turned away from her. Once she could hear his loud snoring she turned towards him, and snuggled into his back. He was warm just as she thought, and skin was soft to touch even with the horrid scars littering his body.

"Thank you," She whispered before succumbing to sleep.

* * *

_Author's Note - Alright guys here you go. I want to say that you guys are really liking this story! But 331 of you have visited it and it only has 8 reviews! I love hearing feedback and criticism so drop a review! Even to say you hate it! I don't care! Remember to rate, review, and favorite. I do not own anything BioShock related! _

_Cheers,_

_~T_


	7. Of Fathers and Children

_**Author's Note:**_

**Reader-stop!**

**If you have not beaten the game-**

**Stop!**

**Spoilers are in this story.**

**Whatever you do, do not continue with this story.**

**You have been warned.**

**~T**

* * *

_**The Year of the Apple**_

_Chapter 6 – Of Fathers and Children_

Booker could feel something slimy on his back as he woke up to the song birds chirping. He groaned as he stretched his legs, but found he couldn't stretch his arms. A pair of pale ones were wrapped around his middle holding tightly to his arms and chest. He glanced behind him to see a slumbering Elizabeth, and he smiled lightly. She must be really wore out from the swim they had to endure yesterday. He turned in her arms slowly as her slobber wiped off on the sheets. He pushed her hair to the side as he gazed at her. She was one hell of a woman. Having to deal with the sadistic Comstock and the constant loneliness she faced in that tower.

He untied her arms from around him, and reached over to grab his cigarettes. He lit one up as he lied on his back, and stuck one arm behind his head. The sun hadn't even risen yet, and Booker was still tired. He barely got any sleep due to the dreams plaguing his mind. He had probably slept three hours. He sighed as he dragged on the cigarette, and then ashed into the ash tray. Elizabeth pushed herself closer to him, and Booker chuckled under his breath. However he stopped when he noticed the shirt he let her borrow had risen up way past her hips. She wasn't wearing anything under them either. He gulped loudly as he moved his gaze to the window by him.

Soon her arms were wrapped around his waist and he was trying to push her away. He didn't want to scare her if he got aroused. So he simply unwrapped her arms from around him, and stood to get dressed. He put on his vest without his shirt, and pulled up his pants easily. He slapped on his gun holster, and decided he'd take a look around the hotel. He left a small note for Elizabeth in case she awoke while he was gone.

The hotel was magnificent, and he couldn't believe the view. Flowers donned the whole front plaza, and people happily moved around. The sun was well up by now, and was shining brightly on everyone. He was amazed at all the people that roamed the streets this early. So many people were already awake and alive. He could hear music coming from outside, and he was strangely drawn to it.

"_Ay, ay, ay, ay. Ay, ay, mi amor. Ay, mi morena. De mi Corazon_." The Spanish man sang as the guitars stopped. Booker smiled at the mariachis, and one of them went down to his knees slowly.

"Juengas?" The man said. Booker knew a few words in Spanish, and he knew that meant play. He grabbed the guitar from the guy with a nod of his head. He stood next to the mariachi who could sing, and he played along with the song. He knew it from ages ago.

He played hard on the guitar as he strummed out a tune of high notes. His fingers worked deftly as crowd gathered, and he cycled down the strings as he played a quick riff. The mariachi singer laughed as he played the tambourine with just as much force. The mariachi finished the song, and Booker strummed very quickly on a note as all the mariachi howled loudly. He finished with a single strum, and then bowed towards the mariachis. He handed the one his guitar back, and started walking towards the crowd.

At the back of the crowd he recognized luscious dark hair, and the sweet smile that was aimed at him. He bowed at her, and held his hand out. She gracefully took it as she held a forgotten shirt in her hand.

"Where to now, mademoiselle?" Booker asked.

"I could go with some breakfast." Elizabeth said with excitement.

"Then we go!" Booker exclaimed as he led her down a sidewalk. Everyone greeted them, and they both greeted them with a smile. Booker's face hurt from so much smiling, he hadn't done it since he was happy. He was surprised to be so happy under the circumstances. However he still had a man to kill, and technically he was still on the run. Once the reached an appropriate restaurant Booker pulled out Elizabeth's chair, and then sat across from her. She ordered a croissant with butter and tea while Booker ordered toast, no butter, and black coffee.

Elizabeth crossed her legs, and placed her hands in the middle of the table as Booker lit up a cigarette. "Where did you learn how to play guitar?"

"My father. It was one of the only things he taught me to do." Booker responded as he puffed out a large cloud of smoke.

"So you didn't care for him?"

"Neither me or my sister. She's lucky she got away in time before Columbia took flight."

"What about your mother?"

"What's with the twenty questions?" Booker growled. She was starting to put his good mood behind him, and it was starting to irritate him. Elizabeth put her hands up in defense, and looked to the street. Booker sighed as he placed a hand on hers.

"Sorry, it's just I don't like talking about that stuff."

"I understand. I was just curious."

"I mean if someone kept asking you wouldn't you get annoyed?"

"No, I like talking about the past. It relieves my stress."

Booker was surprised at her answer. Most people bury away their sins and past, and try to make the future better. He shrugged as he sat back in his chair slowly.

"So, Comstock, what's he like?"

"When I was a child he was very doting to my mother and I, but as the Vox Populi grew stronger—he got meaner. He'd lock me in my room as he screamed at my mother, and she would yell just as loud. They would hit each other, and sometimes the servants would break it up when my father got too rough."

"How old were you?"

"My first memories of that were around five years old. After my mother died I shunned my father because – because . . ."

"Because what?"

"I saw him kill her."

Booker yelped as he dropped his cigarette on his bare chest, and he hurriedly grabbed the cigarette with anger. Elizabeth reached over with an ice cube from her water, and dabbed it on his burn. Booker looked at her as she was so absorbed in fixing his wound. He grasped her wrist, and pulled it away from his burn. Elizabeth gave him a questioning look as he put her hand on the table. "I'm alright, but want to know what happened . . . if that isn't a problem?"

Elizabeth shrugged as she tossed the ice cube to the ground. "I had a nightmare, and I was staying in the laboratory with the doctor because I'd often have to be woken up from them. However the doctor was nowhere to be found so I went to go find my mother because she'd sing me this song. But I saw something worse. Comstock was on the bed strangling her without any clothes on, and screaming this chant over and over."

"Jesus,"

"There is no God when it comes to him. He is an evil man created by another force."

"What was he saying?"

"The seed of the prophet shall sit the throne and drown in flame the mountain's of man."

* * *

_Author's Note : Alright kiddies, the song that was being played/sang was Cancion Del Mariachi. A good song. Hope you all enjoyed it! I do not own anything Bio-Shock Related._


	8. So Happy Together

_**Author's Note:**_

**Reader-stop!**

**If you have not beaten the game-**

**Stop!**

**Spoilers are in this story.**

**Whatever you do, do not continue with this story.**

**You have been warned.**

**~T**

* * *

_**The Year of the Apple**_

_Chapter 7 – So Happy Together_

Booker had time to put his shirt back on as they walked down the cobble stone sidewalk back to their hotel. The city was still as lively as ever, and everyone greeted them kindly as they passed pedestrians They had to find a way back onto Columbia to get to Emporia. There was no way unless they had an airship, but that seem very unlikely. Elizabeth looked up at her companion, and saw his strained face as he thought. He glanced down at her feeling her gaze, and nodded at her.

"What are you thinking?"

"Thinking how we are going to get back to Emporia."

"I don't know if it is possible."

"Well, we have to find out."

As they rounded a corner they both stopped in their tracks, and Elizabeth yelped in surprise as Booker's hand tightened on her own.

"Why seek answers—"

"When they are right in front of you."

"The delicious question is who can help you get back to Emporia—"

"Not how to get to Emporia."

"Jesus Christ, will you two lay off?" Booker growled.

The twins looked at each other with smiles on their face, and stepped simultaneously towards the couple. Elizabeth and Booker took a step back with worried faces.

"Do you recall altering time and space bit, dear?" The man spoke.

"Don't answer that." Booker hissed.

"Well we know you have the power, and we know that you know you have the power."

"We know that you know?"

"Yes, we know that she knows."

"But now she knows that we know that she knows."

"Sister, please!" He seethed, and then turned back to the couple.

"You have the power, use it." The man said before the light post flickered quickly, and they were both gone. Booker sighed as he turned towards Elizabeth.

"Do you think you can do this?"

"I haven't been able to create many worlds since I lived in Comstock house."

"You're not in the Tower, maybe you can now. Try it."

Elizabeth rung her hands over and over in worry. She glanced up at Booker with huge blue eyes. She gulped before taking his hand.

"Are you sure, Booker? I might not be able to bring us back to this world. This is a huge decision."

Booker took her hands into his own, and patted them with sincere intent. "I trust you, Elizabeth. If we can't come back I'll be content with just having one friend."

Elizabeth gazed at him, and frowned slightly at his wording. She was hoping maybe she was more than just . . . a _friend. _She sighed, and then let go of his hand to stand before him. She threw her hands back heavily, and closed her eyes.

Soon they were both engulfed with immense power, and Booker closed his eyes. He could feel his bones cracking and feeling almost weightless. Once he opened them he could feel the slight breeze and hear song birds. Hus eyes went to slits as the sun shined into them immensely to see he was standing in front of Monument Island, however they weren't in the air.

"Where are we?" He asked as he gazed all around.

"Columbia, in a world where she didn't take flight." Elizabeth explained. They saw that the fence was open, and they continued through it. However the city was the same. They could spot the blacks and Chinese carrying loads of crates, and photos of the Prophet. Although it said 'Praise our President Comstock'.

"Comstock is president." Elizabeth said.

"Are you still is daughter?"

Elizabeth simply pointed to a poster that was stretched across a building. It was red, white, and blue and had a picture of Elizabeth . . . and Booker.

"The All-American Marriage of Elizabeth Comstock and Booker Dewitt, come see it this Sunday." Booker read the sign out loud.

"What?" Elizabeth responded.

"We are getting married . . . today."

"This world's Booker and Elizabeth are."

"We have to find them."

"Where could they be?" Elizabeth asked. Booker glanced back at Monument Island, and they hurriedly rushed to the doors as fast as lightning. Elizabeth ran after him as he began climbing the stairs, and came to a bedroom. Booker busted in, and then gasped as he held his hand to his face. Elizabeth trailed behind him, and burst into the room as well. She screamed at the sight. Booker covered her eyes, and held her.

"We're—we're"

"Dead. I know."

"Who would kill us in this life?"

"I have no idea."

"Wouldn't we have died then?"

"I suppose not-"

Suddenly they heard loud footsteps, and someone calling their names.

"We have to hide the bodies."

"What? Elizabeth!"

"Booker, just help me!" She cried as she moved her own body below the bed, and Booker heaved his over his shoulder. He stuck him under the bed as well, and they both quickly glanced at each other's clothing. They were dirty, and did not look like the classy clothing their other worldly selves were wearing. Comstock entered the room, and frowned at the two as they were both covered by the duvet. Comstock walked into the room, and let Lady Comstock enter before shutting the door.

"What are you two doing?" Comstock asked.

"Just getting up, sir." Booker said as he sat up. He had unbuttoned his shirt in haste, and Elizabeth was only wearing her corset and stockings as she too sat up.

"Yes, Father. We were just going to start getting ready."

"Well, Elizabeth, lamb, go with your mother, and Booker can come with me to get you kids ready." Comstock explained as he yanked the cover away, and Elizabeth yelped and covered herself with a blush coming to her cheeks. "This isn't very appropriate, you two."

"We were just getting used to sleeping in the same bed." Booker admitted.

"Well there is the rest of your lives to be doing that. Now meet us down stairs when you are both decent." Comstock grumbled as he led his wife out, and the couple waited until the footfalls disappeared. They both jumped out of bed.

"What the fuck are we going to do?" Booker yelled as he ran to the closet to look at his clothes, and Elizabeth just made a grunting noise at his question. They were all uniforms that he supposedly wore all day. He grabbed the boots, baggy green slacks, and everything else he needed. He began slipping his clothes on, and when he smashed the hat on his head he looked down to see his medals. They all indicated he was a general, how the hell did this happen?

Elizabeth was busy looking under the bed at the bodies as he dressed. His boots clicked as he shuffled over to her. She placed a hand on her shoulder, and she glanced behind her. He was very handsome in his uniform, and patted his hand. They both stood, and Elizabeth sighed as she played with the cameo on her neck.

"I have something to say."

"What?" Booker said as he played with his cuff-links.

"This universe's Booker and Elizabeth weren't murdered."

"How do you know that?"

"This Elizabeth has strangle marks on her throat the same exact size as . . . this Booker's hands. Booker as a letter opener in his throat that belongs to me—well Elizabeth Comstock in this world."

"What are you trying to say?"

"They killed each other."

* * *

_Author's Note : Starting to get intense! Woohoo! Remember to review and favorite. Hope you are enjoying it! I do not own anything BioShock related!_


	9. Beast of America

_**Author's Note:**_

**Reader-stop!**

**If you have not beaten the game-**

**Stop!**

**Spoilers are in this story.**

**Whatever you do, do not continue with this story.**

**You have been warned.**

**~T**

* * *

_**The Year of the Apple**_

_Chapter 8 – Beast of America_

"Elizabeth, you're bleeding." Booker said after she finished. He paid no mind to her words, he was more worried about her. Elizabeth could feel the warm liquid running from her nose. However she pointed at Booker's nose too as they both swayed, and then fell onto the bed. Booker fell on top of Elizabeth, and she exhaled heavily as all his weight pressed on her. Both groaned as the dizziness over took them, but then soon they both stood despite the weariness they were both feeling. Booker offered his handkerchief to her, and she wiped her nose before walking away from him. Booker wiped his nose as she rummaged through the closet to find proper clothing.

"What do you mean they killed each other?"

"It's obvious, Booker. Look at that broken vase, and—" She started before picking up a piece of paper. "_Booker, I'm sorry. I can't do this._"

"What?"

"It's what's on the paper . . . She was leaving him at least that's what I think it means."

"But why?" Booker said as he shuffled to her, and grabbed the paper. Elizabeth found a proper dress, and slipped it over her head to go over her corset and stockings. She turned around so her back was to Booker, and pointed over her shoulder. Booker admired the deep blue she had picked before stepping behind her. He let his hands wander before settling on her upper back.

"Mind helping me with this?" Booker simply grabbed the ties to the dress, and started lacing it up slowly as he passed her the note. He pulled harshly on the strings, and Elizabeth took a deep intake of breath.

"What are we going to do with the bodies?" Booker questioned out loud.

"We can dump them in the river past that clearing." Elizabeth mentioned as she nodded towards the window.

"I still have a headache." Booker grumbled. "And I need a cigarette."

"If you find me some pain killers, I can perhaps find you a pack of cigarettes." Elizabeth chuckled before turning around, and flipping her hair behind her head. She could see her other world's self's arm poking out. She quickly clambered to the ground, and tried to push the body back. However she noticed a big detail.

"Booker, come here." Elizabeth hissed as she pulled at his pant leg. Once he crouched down he saw it too.

"Why do you have short hair?"

"I have no idea! But they're going to notice!"

"Elizabeth . . ." Booker said as he helped her up.

"No way! No!"

"You have to!"

"But my hair—"

"Doesn't mean anything to you, its hair . . . it will grow back." Booker soothed her as he wrapped an arm around her. Elizabeth glared at him as she huffed, and then stomped to the desk where she found the note. She grabbed a pair of silver shears, and then began cutting with angry swipes. Booker placed his hand over his mouth as Elizabeth cried at the falling mahogany pieces.

Once she was finished she slammed her hands against the desk, and sobbed. Booker immediately rushed to her, and wrapped his arms around her. She turned in his arms, and cried into his chest. He petted her now short hair, and looked out the window. Many carriages were waiting for them, but he couldn't take her outside this upset.

"Elizabeth, listen to me, everything will be fine."

"How is it going to be fine? We have to get married—my hair . . . "

"What you don't want to marry this?" Booker joked.

Elizabeth giggled as she looked up at him, and then at his wide smile. Despite her hair she couldn't feel angry at him, his smile set her free from her worries. She of course wasn't upset about the marriage . . . she was quite glad she had an excuse to kiss him later today. However she wanted to kiss him now. His mouth was so inviting, and the arms around her midriff were strong and encased her in a good, secure hold. She let her hands wrap around his neck, and she stretched up on her toes.

Booker saw what was coming, and just let her. He wasn't oblivious to her small stares and the way she touched him. But when her lips touched his he melted right into her. The kiss that was initiated by Elizabeth was tender and soft—a woman's kiss. However when Booker took the reins, Elizabeth had to keep up. His kiss was powerful and full of passion, and it surprised Elizabeth that he had that much emotion. They held onto each other with vice grips as they battled. Soon Booker pulled away from air, and was about to dive back in before a loud cawing sounded.

Before they could part the whole tower rattled, and they fell to the floor still in each other's arms. Booker protecting Elizabeth as debris fell from the ceiling, and onto their heads. The couple looked out the window to see what was causing the ruckus, and they were met by the glowing green eye of something more sinister than the blowing wind.

Songbird let out a maddening screech that blew their ear drums, and Elizabeth screamed in fear as she scrambled up onto the bed. Booker stood his ground, and death stared the bird. He growled as he took a step towards it with his hand on his gun. Elizabeth immediately noticed this, and pulled his arm. He landed right next to her on to bed, and he tried to get up but he was being held down by Elizabeth's whole body.

"Booker, no! In this world he isn't evil! Look his eyes!"

"No! No!" Booker roared.

Elizabeth kissed him again, and they both could feel the bird project off the building and away. Booker growled as he bit her lip, and pushed her under him. Elizabeth wrapped her legs around his nimble hips and her free arm around his broad shoulders. She hummed in delight at her distraction, and then released his lips.

"Just stop."

"He—can't—"

"Booker, not in this world. This isn't our world. This is theirs."

Booker buried his face in her neck, and held her to him. She could feel him exhaling heavily on her neck—holding in his pain. She brushed her fingers through his hair, and she patted his shoulders so he would stand. He did, and held out a hand for her.

"Are you ready, soon-to-be-Mrs. Dewitt?" Booker said in a surprisingly calm voice.

Elizabeth simply nodded with a large grin on her face as they exited the bedroom.

* * *

_Author's Note - Finally they both got some action. And to address a particular review from Stairhopper I believe, yes I have beaten 1999 Mode. I have beaten all the modes. I have nothing else better to do for the time being. And it was my fifth run through so it was quite easy for me. Hope you enjoyed it! I do not own anything BioShock related!_


	10. What the Future Holds

_**Author's Note:**_

**Reader-stop!**

**If you have not beaten the game-**

**Stop!**

**Spoilers are in this story.**

**Whatever you do, do not continue with this story.**

**You have been warned.**

**~T**

* * *

_**The Year of the Apple**_

Chapter 9 – What the Future Holds

Part 1

As they walked out they could hear the roars of people as they cheered. Booker looked around, and growled at all the people. Elizabeth smiled as she waved at them with a bright smile. Booker tugged on her arm to lead her to the carriage, and he stuffed her in. Comstock and Lady Comstock must have already due to them not joining them. Elizabeth picked up a newspaper that was next to her, and she opened it.

"What are we going to do?" Booker questioned as he found a pack of cigarettes on the seat. He stuck one in his mouth, and lit it. The smoke calmed him as he breathed it out harshly. The road was bumpy as they were thrashed around the carriage, and Booker closed the curtains as they continued on to Comstock House.

"We are going to get married. We are going to kill Comstock and take over."

"I don't want this place. I want to burn it to the ground."

"We can give it to Daisy Fitzroy."

"How do we know that Daisy Fitzroy is here?" Booker asked. Elizabeth folded the newspaper, and handed it to him. He opened it up to see an advertisement for a bar, and Daisy Fitzroy was on the advertisement.

"The Prophet's Sodom."

"This newspaper is not the regular running one. This is the one for the degenerates."

"Why do we get it?"

"Read the top."

"Subscription to Booker A. Dewitt and Elizabeth Comstock. I suppose we get this newspaper."

"Were they planning something? Like a take over . . ."

"We need to get to that bar."

"We're already late to the wedding, Booker!"

"We need to fix this." Booker said. "It isn't right what we're doing." He grumbled as he stretched across the front, and knocked on the window. "Hey! Take us to The Prophet's Sodom immediately!"

The driver nodded while pulling on the reigns, and sharply turning left. "Should I take the usual way, sir?" The driver asked.

Booker and Elizabeth glanced at each other with uncertainty, Booker barked a yes, and then went to sit next to Elizabeth. She grabbed his hand as she stared at him.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm just thinking that maybe we shouldn't have come here."

"Why not?"

"Everything is so fucked up! It's so backwards, like how did we get together? Did I have Anna? Why is the damned bird good now? I have so many questions!"

Elizabeth turned around, and banged on the glass. "Stop the carriage!" She screamed, and the carriage came to a sudden halt. Elizabeth yelped as she flew forward, and then stood. She got out, and started yelling at the driver. Booker could see her yanking him off the carriage, and soon both of them clambered into the cart. Booker ripped off the man's hat after he sat down, and he gasped in surprise.

"You! What are you doing here?"

"The question is what are you doing here?" The red hair man chuckled as he fixed his mane with a pale white hand.

"We want answers! We want them now!"

"Alright! You, Elizabeth, have great power."

"Obviously, you dimwit! Tell us what is going on in this world since you know everything." Booker growled as he took the tie hanging around the man's neck and yanked it as hard as he could.

"Can I finish?" The man seethed as he got out of Booker's grasp. "You are in a world where you never had Anna, Mr. Dewitt. You became a war hero in the Battle of Wounded Knee, and ranked up to a General. Comstock was also there, however he brought you up after your father died in the war. Elizabeth was sixteen when you came back decked out in your best, and you two became inseparable. Comstock made you the head of the Army, and he took over Columbia and succeeded. You two were betrothed the day Elizabeth became eighteen.

"Elizabeth, Lady Comstock and Comstock are your parents and you grew up with a great childhood, and always looked for your prince and here he is. Things became sour soon however because of Mr. Dewitt's deception." Booker smiled at the man's words, and Elizabeth pushed him to put down his ego.

"But there were rumors that you two were not getting along. You moved in with each other, and had separate rooms ordered by the prophet, but you two were always found in bed with each other the next morning. Soon articles were coming out of you two having massive fights, and the people of Columbia could hear your yells across the city. The low lives had seen also Mr. Dewitt at the bar The Prophet's Sodom, and I can say that he was having an affair with Daisy Fitzroy. I saw it with my own eyes. They were planning on murdering Elizabeth Comstock after the wedding so he would still be with the family. He was going to pin it on her jealous mother Lady Comstock, and then have her locked up for treason and murder. Booker would then poisoning Comstock. He would inherit Columbia, and he'd change everything.

"He would agree to rights among the petty and marry Daisy Fitzroy, and make her his queen. They would charge on the rest of the United States with a glorious army, and take over the rest of the country. He'd become president, and he would rule everything with an iron fist."

Elizabeth and Booker stared at each other in shock at the man's words.

"You know I just heard that."

"You ponce!" Booker yelled as he grabbed the man. "You knew this and you didn't stop them! They murdered each other you idiot! We have to live their lives!"

"Or! Or! You can stage a murder with the bodies . . ." The red haired man grinned.

"Are you kidding me? They will know!"

"Mr. Dewitt, you know your mission. You can stop it here."

"If there are a million worlds isn't Comstock alive in many?" Booker questioned. Elizabeth turned her head towards him.

"What are you talking about? Booker!" Elizabeth grabbed his arm. Booker sighed as he loosened his collar.

"Yes, Booker, tell her." The man chuckled with a sadistic tone. Booker kicked the man in his nether regions, and he fell to his knees in the carriage in pain.

"Elizabeth, don't get angry—"

"I'm already angry!"

"I—I was hired to kill your father before we planned on it."

"What?! Are you nuts? You never would have met me you would have ruined our family!"

"What family, hmm? You think I wanted to ruin your life? No! I want to ruin his! He made the bird, he should perish for it! He branded me! Tortured me and left me to die in that cell!" Booker cried out as he flicked his hand around to show her his brand behind the handkerchief.

"I know he is evil, but you lied!"

"I never lied! I just didn't tell you!"

"That's worse! To think I actually wanted to marry you!" Elizabeth blurted out before slapping her hand against her mouth. Booker shook his head in confusion a few times, and then grabbed her hand.

"What?"

"I started having feelings for you right when I met you. You are alluring, rugged, and I thought—I thought you liked me too . . ."

Booker sighed while looking away, and then brought his hands to her face gently. "I do care for you. I also have feelings, but I thought they were so wrong, but when we kissed—"

"It felt right." Both of them said at the same time. The man smiled at them as he sat back up, and he cleared his throat.

"We have to keep moving if I have to get you to the bar and the ceremony plaza."

"What is your name, sir? You have been following us this whole time, and you are great help."

"I'm Robert Lutece, and I will be helping you two from now on more than I already have." Robert said with a soft voice. Booker and Elizabeth nodded as they helped him out of the carriage, and then Robert's whip sounded before they took off towards their destination.

Part 2

The couple strolled out of the carriage quickly, and clambered into the bar as not to be seen. Once they entered the whole bar was silent. Booker cleared his throat, and dug in his pockets for the wallet he snatched off the bedside table.

"I will give everyone free drinks if no one speaks about this." He mentioned as he threw a hundred dollar bill on the bar. He leaned towards the bartender, and curled his finger to signal him closer. "Where can I find Daisy Fitzroy?"

"In her usual room, Mr. Dewitt, number six." The bartender said with a dull voice as he cleaned a glass. Booker nodded as he led Elizabeth up the stairs. Soon however he decided he shouldn't have brought her inside. Doors were wide open, and showed rough coupling between men and prostitutes. Booker tightened his grip on her, and pulled her through the hallway.

"Don't look." Booker said as they made their way to the last room. Booker opened the cracked door with his toe only to hear the loud moans of Daisy Fitzroy. Booker pushed Elizabeth to the side, and gestured her to stay. He threw the door open, and he saw the young colored girl. The girl shrieked, and jumped off her customer. She covered herself up quickly as the man pulled his pants up angrily.

"Buddy, you got a problem?!" The man growled as he went after Booker. Booker grabbed his neck, and threw him into the wall. He stepped closer to the man, and then fished a hundred out of his pocket.

"You take this and leave. You ain't got no business here." Booker said as he stuffed the bill into the man's mouth, and then pushed him out the door. Elizabeth watched the man run past, and she huddled closer to the wall. Booker then turned towards Daisy, and seized her ankle. He yanked her towards him, and sneered.

"Booker!"

"Stop the bullshit! What were we planning? Are you nuts?"

"You planned it you idiot!"

"Well I've forgotten it, mind tell me again?" He asked as he twisted her leg. She yelped loudly, and began to cry.

"You know everything! What has gotten into you? It's that snipe of a girl, isn't it? You are leaving me for her!"

"Daisy, I don't have time for this."

"If you let go I will tell you!" Daisy growled as she took her leg back, and crawled back under the covers. "You promised me so much, Booker. You promised me the world."

Booker scoffed as he rested against the closed door. "Yeah, right."

"Seriously, you were kind, gentle, and you told me you loved me. What happened to you?"

"I must be from a different world." Booker quipped.

"You wanted to kill Elizabeth. We were going to take over the world . . . you were so happy when you heard about us." She said as she placed a hand on her stomach. Booker looked from her abdomen to her face before gulping.

"You're pregnant?"

"Booker, you know this! We were going to have the warrior that would lead this country."

Booker shook his head violently before bursting out of the room, and right past Elizabeth. She followed him blindly as he ran out of the bar, and straight into the carriage. Elizabeth climbed in as Booker started punching the wall. She grabbed his arm, and held it tightly as he yelled.

"What the fuck is wrong with me in this world?! How could this have happened?"

"Booker! What's wrong?"

"She's pregnant, Elizabeth! Pregnant with Booker's child. In this world I am awful. I was going to kill you! I was going to have a child that wasn't yours! Is this the child you saw in your visions? Was this child Daisy Fitzroy's?"

"Booker, you are so lost in the world." Elizabeth said as he cradled his head. He bundled up her dress in his hands as the carriage began to move.

"Tell me, Elizabeth, was it?"

"No, it wasn't."

"Then who's was it?"

"Please, don't make me tell you." Elizabeth said with a cracking voice.

"Please, 'Lizabeth." He lisped her name as he wiped his nose. He didn't want to cry infront of her, but it was hard for him to keep this all bottled up. This was becoming a botched job quickly.

"It was our child, Booker. It was our baby girl, and I didn't want to meddle with the future. But you looked so happy, and I was immediately drawn to you two in the tear. I _wanted _this tear to happen so that's why I forced myself to go with you."

Booker stared at her as he blinked a few times, and then he sighed while finding his cigarettes. He stuck one in his mouth, and he immediately breathed in the smoke after lighting it. He looked up at her again with large emerald eyes. "Is that what you want? A child?"

"I've always wanted one, but you seemed so adamant about it."

"What do you mean?"

"I shouldn't have said anything."

"Elizabeth, tell me!"

"You will just get angry!"

"No I won't! You are making me angry by not telling me!"

"Fine! I've been popping in and out of tears of my realities. Every reality has you in it, and every single one except that one you were always telling that world's Elizabeth no. Some realities you even left her, and I wanted one reality where you said yes. I found it the day you escaped. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't try."

"Elizabeth . . . you can't meddle with the future."

"I know I can't but I can try."

"You are a wonderful woman. Anybody would be lucky to have you, but you seriously want a child with me?"

"The future wills it."

"You don't have to listen to the future! You only have to listen to your heart."

"My heart tells me it's you, Booker. What do I do then?"

"You listen to it." He mumbled before planting his chapped lips upon hers, and kissing the day lights out of her.

* * *

_Author's Note : I know in the game Booker and Comstock are the same person, but I changed it to fit the story. I gave you a double dose since I have been holding out. Sorry I was in the hospital experiencing some very bad Braxton Hixton contractions. I am 24 weeks pregnant and have to deal with this horrible and painful shit. Hope you enjoyed it!_


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